


And when we fall we will fall together (no one will catch us so we'll catch ourselves)

by flaneuse



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-07
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-09 08:25:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaneuse/pseuds/flaneuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall and Zayn fall together. It's as simple as that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And when we fall we will fall together (no one will catch us so we'll catch ourselves)

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first 1d fic. Ziall has taken over my life. Enjoy.
> 
> Title from We Will Fall Together, by Streetlight Manifesto.

Zayn loves the way they are together.

In bed, after they've both come and are wrapped around each other, Zayn likes to look down at their entwined bodies.

Where Zayn is dark and tanned, Niall is bright, so bright it almost hurts Zayn's eyes to look at him. Where Zayn is lithe, Niall is a little fuller, a little more muscular despite all the Nandos. They are stark opposites but they work so well together, mesh so well that Zayn can't help but wonder if they were always made for each other.

It's cheesy, and something Niall would laugh at him for, but that doesn't stop Zayn from whispering it in to the jut of hips as he presses Niall into the bed, or into the curve of his neck as Zayn holds Niall down and makes him take it.

He thinks he could paint them, with broad brush strokes of cream and brown for their tangled limbs, maybe a little yellow here and there for Niall's brightness, and navy for Zayn and his quiet intensity.

They can sit for hours together, Niall chattering on and on about home and rolling fucking hills of Ireland or something, and Zayn will just sit there and listen, completely enraptured by how Niall delves completely into his tale, making Zayn feel as if he were really there. Niall will throw his head back and laugh (and Zayn will feel a slight pang of regret to see Niall's wonky teeth being slowly straightened- god he loved them) and Zayn will resist the urge to bury his nose there and never leave, just breathing Niall in until his nose couldn't recognize any other scent.

Niall, for his part, is perfectly okay with the status quo, and talks when Zayn won't, laughs when Zayn will only smile, but also yells when Zayn won't let on he's mad except for the downturn of his lips or the furrow in his eyebrows.

 

He doesn't even know how they fell together anymore. He has vague memories of one of their parties (though that's a generous term- all they really entailed was cheap beer, obnoxious music in the vein of Justin Bieber, and cuddling, just the five of them) when _someone_ (Louis, he remembered) thought it would be a good idea to replace beer with tequila shots. Harry was raucously drunk and trying to get Liam and Louis to join him in a three-man waltz, and Zayn was hiding in the kitchen. That's where Niall found a few minutes later, and wordlessly handed Zayn a shot of tequila. Niall tipped his head back and Zayn could see the salt sticking to the column of his throat. Niall put a wedge of lime in his mouth and nodded at Zayn.

Zayn had swallowed thickly, and his stomach tightened with something akin to nerves and excitement. He moved closer to Niall, nosing at his jaw before licking up the salt with a broad stripe of his tongue and downing the shot in one go.

All that was left was the lime, and Zayn took it from Niall's mouth with his fingers, biting down quickly before tossing it aside and slamming their mouths together, sealing the tang of the salt and lime and the heat of the tequila between them. It was slick and hot and wet and by the end of it their lips were red and abused.

Niall shoved Zayn back against the refrigerator and attached his mouth to Zayn's collarbone, causing Zayn to sag backwards, his head thunking against the metal of the fridge.

"f- _uck_ ," Zayn breathed as Niall nipped at the smooth skin, his hands skimming over Zayn's nipples through the thin white cotton of Zayn's v-neck. "Niall," Zayn groaned as Niall pulled away with a grin to blinding that Zayn felt almost at a loss as to what to do. It was so clear that Niall was exactly where he wanted to be, doing exactly what he wanted to be doing and Zayn didn't feel worthy, felt like he hadn't done anything to deserve this.

But he knew he didn't want to let his insecurities get in the way of losing something he knew he wanted, so he just kissed Niall once more, holding his face in his hands almost delicately, and pulled Niall with him to the spare bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

From there it was a blur, a little hazy and Zayn was giddy with alcohol and arousal. He remembered Niall stripping too quickly, smiling goofily when he tripped on the hem of his jeans, and he remembered that grin turning into a sharp gasp when Zayn swallowed down his cock, mouth velvety smooth and eager, and Niall coming down this throat- hot and coursing. 

He remembered Niall's hand on his dick for the first time- calloused fingers (and fuck, if Zayn hadn't gotten off time after time to the thought of Niall's fingers on him, it had gotten to the point where Zayn couldn't be in the room when Niall was playing guitar) wrapping around him strong and tight, just on the right side of too rough, thumbing the slit of Zayn's dick until he was shuddering.

He remembered their combined embarrassed laughter, like they couldn't believe that just happened. and he remembered Niall shrugging, lifting his arm so that Zayn could snuggle in.

But mostly he remembered the morning after, waking to Niall sprawled out on the bed, limbs askew, but arm still locked securely around Zayn's middle. Zayn was mortified to see that he himself had been snuggling Niall octopus-style throughout the night- his legs were curled around one of niall's, and his head was tucked right under Niall's chin.

But before he could move, get up and walk away like it never happened, Niall woke up.

Zayn had frozen, unsure of what was about to happen, but Niall just cracked open an eye and smiled, still crinkled from sleep, and kissed Zayn, slow and sweet. 

"You want some pancakes?" he asked, and Zayn nodded.

And half an hour later, Harry, Louis, and Liam found them in the kitchen, eating the pancakes that Niall had burnt, and trading kisses, sticky with syrup. The three boys just shrugged and pushed them aside in their haste to get to the food.

 

Now looking back, Zayn can't believe it was anything but that easy for them to just fall together. The five of them worked so well together, so effortlessly that Zayn supposed it was only a matter of time before he fell in love with one of them too. He just didn't expect it to be Niall, to be the one so opposite him.

It's far from perfect; they still fight and Niall yells enough for the both of them, usually to goad Zayn into actually reacting for once and it rarely works out for the best. Sometimes Zayn thinks they spend too much time together, that dating and being in the same band was never meant to work out. Most of the time they fight because Zayn has doubts, because he always will have doubts and that's just who he is.

But most of the time they work. They sleep and they wake up and they eat and they sing and they talk. It's largely similar to the bond that the whole band has, except Zayn also knows what it's like to be inside of Niall, and to have Niall's fingers inside him (Niall will never let Zayn live the calloused fingers kink down, but the teasing is so, _so_ worth it). Zayn knows what it's like to kiss Niall until neither of them can breathe, until they're both gasping from desperation. But mostly, Zayn knows what it's like to just sit on the couch, Niall asleep on his lap, and to look down and to have to shut his eyes against the love and trust that he sees there.

The memories of his life before he joined One Direction are largely unimpressive, his dreams modest and unassuming. But the memories of his life before he met Niall? They're dim and so full of what he didn't even know to hope for, and Zayn doesn't want to look back, so he doesn't. It's as simple as that.


End file.
